Not the best way to start
by SAHRAT
Summary: AU Robin of Locksley is attacked one day in the forest, he gives chase and is quite surprised to find out who his attacker is.


Robin of Locksley was the firstborn of Marcus and Kate Locksley, he had been brought up to be a strict but a fair man. He was trained by both the sword and by the bow and arrow by his father. Marcus had wanted his son to be more than prepared if one day he fell in battle.

Just that morning Marcus had got into a discussion on Robin finding himself a wife soon. As Marcus had been married to Kate for for five years and had already had Robin by the time he was Robin's age now.

"Robin it's past time for you to wed and produce a heir." Marcus said.

"I will find my bride and have a son to carry on the line one day father. Rest assured" Robin said. He was well aware that he had been born to priviledge and with that came specific obligations.

"You're not getting any younger Robin." Marcus said.

"He had plenty of time Marcus, leave our son alone." Kate said.

All three were on their way to a neighboring county to see the Earl of Northshire. His parents were in the carriage while he instead had chosen to ride by his most trusty steed Magnum. Their most trusted guards were traveling with them for extra protection as lately there had been a surge in robberies in the Enchanted Forest. They were about mid way there when all of a sudden an arrow struck the side of his parent's carriage and then men were running in from all sides.

"To arms!" Robin yelled out as his men took out their weapons ready to defend. Robin and the men defended off the attack, Robin felt an arrow fly by his head. He sheated his sword and notched an arrow and scanned the area for the direction of where the arrows were coming from. Just then a second arrow flew, pain like fire tore into Robin's thigh where the arrow struck. He threw back his head and clenched his teeth, reaching for the shaft. His men raced forward. He dismounted quickly before another one would fly his way. He turned to make sure his parents were safe and he had no doubt his guards would protect them above all else.

His men gave cover as he grasped the shaft and pulled, as a cry of sheer agony tore from his lips, but the arrow came free. Blood flowed over his hands, and blackness spun before his eyes. He sat in the mud with a light drizzle of rain now hitting upon him. For many seconds he feared that he would fall flat upon the earth, unconscious. His men had either captured or killed the other attackers.

Fury revived him. He ripped off a slit of his clothing, tying the wound, and staggered to his feet. His jaw tightened and his eyes were like frost as they swept the area. A small figure moved to the right of him, rage blackened his vision now, whoever had attacked him surely meant to run now, but there would be no escape. He burst to his feet and started after the figure he had seen.

Robin knew his attacker might be waiting for him in the forest, planning an ambush for him. He saw the slightest movement trying to hide by a fallen tree. Casually he leaned down to slip out his knife from the sheath at his calf. Slowly he approached from the west, he moved as if he had no purpose. He quickly started to come up behind the figure when he was hit with a cloud of flour in the face blinding him. A scurrying sound assured him that the man was trying to escape. Ignoring the pain in his eyes and in his leg. Robin lunged at the fleeting assassin. His hands curled around an arm, and he dragged the man down easily. He fell hard on his attacker and swiftly brought up his knife, ready to deal out death.

Then he heard a woman scream, his eyes opened up finally and he was able to make out the figure under him. It was a woman and she was trembling beneath him but swallowed her scream angry that she had already released it. Her eyes were glazed with tears that she would not allow to spill. Her irises were dark and her hair was black and long and her eyes were fringed by midnight-black lashes. They were both startling and beautiful. Her skin was fair,a creamy ivory, and as soft as a rose petal. She lay beneath him, gasping for breath, her breasts rsing and falling, their firm mounds appararent beneath the soft, taut wool of her tunic. He was assessing the fine curves of her mouth when suddenly she pursed her lips and spat at him.

He sat back, his thighs hard around her hips, and with a flick of motion brought his blade to her throat. He saw her pulse race there, and then she gulped. The long, brillant length of her hair was tangled beneath her. He offered her no mercy. A man would not be spit at him and live. But a woman...

He wiped the spittle from his face, then dried his hand on one of her breasts. He felt her flinch and felt the full, evocative softness of the woman gown she wore.

"You've hurt me gravely milady." Robin told her. His tone was low but firm. She seemed to sense the deadliness, and yet she seemed not to care.

"I meant to kill you." she retorted vehemently.

"Tis a pity you failed." Robin warned her. He moved his blade against her cheek and let it fall, ice cold, against her throat again. He felt her shiver and drew the knife away. He stood, yanking her to her feet. With the effort he felt fresh blood surge from the wound in his thigh. Blackness spun before him. He should have had his physician cleanse and bind the women before coing against an enemy, any enemy whether ten men with swords and maces or this spitfire. She knew how to aim an arrow, and one look at her dark eyes assured him that she was watching his every weakness. She trembled, but her eyes amanated hatred.

Suddenly, fiercely, viciously, she brought her knee up against hi groin. He caught his breath at the raw agony, doubling over as everything went black on him again. He did not release her, though. He kept his fingers wound around her wrist as he staggered back dragging her with him. He fell backward, dragging her down to her knees before him. He wanted to spank her at that moment. He gasped for breath and forced himself to open his eyes. Fo a moment, a moment so brief he was certain he imagined it, he saw pure, wild terror in her gaze, like a pheasant caught in a snare. But the look was quickly gone, and though he tempered his anger.

She then desperately began to fight for her freedom. He almost forgot the fight as he found himself watching her, studying her. She was an uncommon beauty, with fine chiseled features, a long stunning neck. Evidently she was of noble birth with the way she carried herself. He watched her too long. She was quick to assess the slight easing of his hold. She bit into his hand, he released her wrist and grabbed her hair and smiled as she stopped fighting. She might be beautiful but she was also quick and cunning and decidedly his enemy. He pulled her very close to his face, his eyes were merciless daggers as they bore into hers. "What happened here? Why did you attack us?" Robin demanded.

Tears hovered at her eyelids. She clawed at his fingers and her hand slipped. Unwittingly she had found his weakness, striking his thigh. Stars burst before his head. His grasp eased. He was going to black out, he knew it. He forced himself to fall forward, catching her beneath him. He fought for consciousness and they rolled together. The dirt and flour that covered him covered her now. Their legs intertwined, and the movement of his thigh pulled up the length of her tunic. She cried out again in fear and fury. Ambushed by unexpected desires he let his rough hands slide over her naked flesh, finding it soft and silky smooth. She coughed and choked and fought more madly, and curiously he felt the fever within him burn, for her thighs were warm and supple. He felt a surge of desire spill hotly through his loins.

He clenched his teeth and saw that her eyes were widened with alarm. She treid to roll and further wedged him on top of her. She swore, struggling fiercely. Her nails raked him and he caught her wrists and dragged them high above her head, his eyes ice blue as they gazed upon her.

Robin had battled countless men and not received a scratch, but this little woman with her beautiful eyes had nearly brought him down. A small sound escaped her. She twisted her eyes not to stare at him and he saw that she bit into her lower lip.

"You will die for this." she cried out suddenly, passionately. He had seen the anger, the fire in her eyes.

"For this? For what, milady, precisly? For coming after my attacker or ah for touching you so...?" Robin shifted his weight, fighting the darkness that threatened. She's shot him with her damn arrow, had kicked, bitten, and clawed him and he was a fool if he didn't realize that a beautiful enemy was a deadly one indeed. He hardened himself against her beauty, as well as against the raw desire.

"Don't fear milady, and don't provoke me further." Robin said.

"What else can be expected from one such as you?" she said.

"One such as me? Tell me your name milady." Robin said.

"Regina, it's Regina." Regina said.

"Now Regina, you tell me why you attacked me." Robin demanded. He leaned forward, fighting the darkness. He was going to die, he was about to fall because this chit of a girl would slay him when he lay down and closed his eyes.

"Oh!" he felt her move beneath him. She shoved him, and an awful lethargy swept over him. She was up upon her knees, staring down at him, meeting the blue ice in his eyes. She reached for the knife. Robin's fingers closed around it but he was fading fast. She dug at his hand where he held the blade. He heard her sobs, coming hard and fast and desperate. She intended to slay him. She needed the weapon.

"My lord! Where are you?" Robin heard his friend Killian calling for him. He knew help had come, he held fast to the woman rose to her feet. Her pulse palpitated furiously in her throat. She turned to run.

Robin pushed himself up, holding the knife. She made it a few feet and turned around. He had a vision of her for a moment in the haze of his mind, caught in the dying light of the day. Petite and slim and regal, her raven hair flowing out around her. She saw the dagger and his icy gaze, and she gasped. He held her life in his hands and she knew it.

"Pray milady, pray to your God with all your heart that we do not meet again." Robin said. Her thickly lashed eyes betrayed her terror and her hatred. She spun around and ran again. Then she was gone.

"Robin!" Killian said as he approached him.

"Get my physician immediately." Robin said.

"The blood!" Killian said. "Hurry, we must get your wound bound."

"I'll not die. I swear it, I'll not diet. I'll live to find out what happened this day." Robin said as his body finally sought the rest it needed and he passed out. His last thoughts were of the beautiful spitfire.


End file.
